


Hello Goodbye, and Hello

by dracofiend



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracofiend/pseuds/dracofiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambassador Spock is on the Enterprise, and charming. Commander Spock is--not jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello Goodbye, and Hello

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dlasta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dlasta).



“Here we are!”

The turbolift doors whoosh apart and Jim pops through. “Welcome to the bridge, Ambassador.”

He turns with an outswept arm to Ambassador Spock, who steps out of the turbolift with his hands behind his back and an expression of coalescing awe.

“Fascinating!” he murmurs as he stands on the threshold, peering around. Jim laughs and watches the dark glittering eyes of the Ambassador pass deliberately over the helm, the main viewscreen, navigations. “It is brighter than I had expected,” the Ambassador says, gazing across to the science station and communications. “As are so many things.” His deep-set eyes rest on Jim, and they seem to smile. “I suppose time can dim even the most vivid of memories.”

Jim smiles back and moves eagerly down the slope of the bridge. “Then let’s shine them up! Ambassador, this is Ensign Sulu.”

Sulu has been watching their visitor with intense interest the whole time, like everyone else on the bridge. He pushes back his seat and stands with a smile.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

The Ambassador’s face is full of warmth and recognition. “It is a pleasure to see you, Mr. Sulu. A great pleasure indeed.” He pauses and simply gazes at Sulu with that soft look of delight, so inapposite to the species, on his lined Vulcan face. “Tell me, do you enjoy fencing?”

Sulu grins. “Yes, sir. Very much so.”

“His insane fencing skills saved my life!” Jim puts in. “We’d just landed on the drill,” his eyes dart to the Ambassador, “and two Romulans were there to greet us. Lucky for me Sulu had packed his travel-size katana--you should see it, Ambassador, it’s an amazing piece of weaponry. And historic now, too, thanks to you.” He gives Sulu a grin. “Would you mind showing it off?”

“Anytime, Captain,” Sulu answers. Jim redirects his grin to the Ambassador and leans closer to him.

“Uh, you haven’t seen it already, have you? I mean--before?” he says, in a completely unnecessary undertone. Everyone on the bridge is well aware of the Ambassador’s origin.

The Ambassador tilts his head toward Jim. “I have not.”

“Good,” Jim grins. They move toward Chekhov next and Sulu sits back down at his console. As he does so, his eyes flicker between the Ambassador and Commander Spock, who has been standing behind the captain, silently, with his hands behind his back, ignoring the crew’s darting glances of comparison in favor of making his own observations. He has formulated a theory, and he is collecting data to test it. He watches Jim’s step transform into something closer to a bounce; he notes the attentiveness with which Jim devotes himself to the Ambassador.

Spock moves to follow Jim and the Ambassador from the tactical console up the sloping floor of the bridge. They go to the science station, and Jim’s smile widens.

“I’m sure we don’t need to tell you anything about this.”

The Ambassador steps forward, looking closely at the instruments. Spock suppresses a twinge of illogic. They are not _his_ instruments--they belong to the ship and officers other than Spock man them every day.

“Interesting,” the Ambassador remarks. “The viewer appears to be quite different from the model I was accustomed to during my days as science officer.” He looks around at the captain, and at Spock. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the eyepiece.

“Go ahead!” the captain urges cheerfully. The Ambassador gives him the mouth twitch that is obviously a smile. Spock has marked its frequent usage, particularly toward Jim. He has determined that he himself is not subject to such casual lapses.

The Ambassador is looking at Spock questioningly, though for what purpose Spock cannot divine, as Captain Kirk has unequivocally granted his permission. Spock nods once, and it seems to satisfy the Ambassador. Carefully, he bends his face to the viewer.

There is silence on the bridge as he observes what Spock knows to be sensor readings of the interstellar debris in the otherwise empty space surrounding the Enterprise.

“Fascinating,” the Ambassador murmurs, and his left hand comes up to the base of the viewer, groping for a dial that is not there. The captain reaches out and places his hand on the Ambassador’s, and guides the Ambassador’s fingers to the panel where the viewer controls are set.

The Ambassador remains bent over the screen. Beneath the viewer, Spock sees his mouth twitch.

“Thank you, Jim.”

If anyone notices Spock stiffen, it isn’t Jim. His eyes follow the Ambassador’s every move, as if he can’t stand to look away.

+++

“Oh man, you’re gonna be so awesome one day! I mean, you know, awesomer,” Jim adds. “I wonder what I’ll be like?”

Spock raises a brow. “Contrary to your apparent belief, Ambassador Spock does not represent my future self. Rather, he is a separate individual from the future of an alternate reality, with whom I share certain commonalities.”

“So you’re saying he’s like a brother.”

Spock refrains from dissenting; it will only encourage Jim.

“Okay, a much older brother. An uncle?”

“Too many aspects of our lives have diverged to calculate the similarities--”

“You don’t think there’s a part of you that’s the same no matter what? That every Spock in every universe would have--I don’t know, logic?” Jim smirks at him as if he’s won the point. Spock fixes him with a firm eye.

“In the alternate timeline where Surak was never permitted to share his teachings, Vulcan society would likely have developed along a very different path, one that did not pursue the dedication to logic that is the cornerstone of Vulcan philosophy as it is known in this universe. As a result, the Spock of that timeline, were he to exist, could hardly be expected to value the principles of logic.”

“Okay fine--not logic then. I still think you’d be you in any reality,” Jim says, leaning forward. “You’d still have your--Spockiness.”

Spock does not react, despite his growing irritation. “That is not a sound argument, Captain.”

“Sure it is!” Jim insists. “I bet Ambassador Spock would get it. Hey--which means you will too, someday.”

Jim’s brilliant smile when he speaks of the Ambassador is too much to bear. “I am not him,” Spock says abruptly.

“Well not yet,” Jim says agreeably. “For one thing, he’s a lot more mellow than you--hey, where are you going?”

Spock has risen to his feet. “My apologies--there is an urgent matter I must attend to.” He steps quickly toward the doors.

“But we’re in the middle of chess!”

“Again, please accept my apologies--the matter is quite urgent. Perhaps Ambassador Spock would be willing to continue the match with you--there could be no material difference in its progression, assuming your supposition is correct.”

“But--look, Spock--”

Spock exits; in the periphery of his vision he glimpses Jim’s outstretched palm and confused expression. The doors shut behind him, but he cannot stop reflecting on Jim’s face until he is safely in his quarters, until he has surrendered himself to the calm of kohlan.

+++

“Spock’s mad at me.”

It comes out nice and strong, matter-of-fact--but Jim’s forehead is furrowed; his blue eyes are pleading. “Not that that’s anything new,” he adds, with a rueful kind of laugh. “We butt heads a lot.”

The Ambassador nods. “This does not surprise me.”

Jim smiles a little and shifts in his chair, waiting for more, but the Ambassador is quiet, looking at Jim. He has the same ability to just look at Jim without talking or moving and being completely at ease, as Spock does. _Which makes sense,_ Jim thinks. _Spockiness._

“Was it that way for you and the Jim Kirk in your time, too?” Jim asks, to prompt further insight from the Ambassador.

“On occasion, yes,” the Ambassador replies. “Initially, Captain Kirk’s methods often appeared to me to be illogical, and even unwise. However, as his first officer, I never questioned his decisions”--he pauses as Jim opens his mouth to interject--“publicly. Over time, I came to realize that Jim possessed an uncanny instinct for finding his way out of trouble. He had the ability to understand others, no matter how alien, and to take acts of faith whenever necessary. In himself, and in his crew.”

Ambassador Spock’s shoulders rise and fall as he breathes. “These, I think, were his greatest strengths, as captain of the Enterprise.” He gives Jim his not-quite-smile. “I believe you, too, have these qualities, Jim. It is encouraging, to find these constants in a world so different from the one I left behind.”

Jim nods. Constants.

“So, you and Jim Kirk were--friends?”

The Ambassador had told him this, on Delta Vega--but Jim asks now because he wants to ask something else that he can’t bring himself to say (not to himself in the mirror--and yeah, he’s tried; not even to Bones, who would probably kick his ass back down to Earth). The Ambassador’s gaze rests on him, kindly, revealing nothing.

“We were,” he says simply.

Jim nods, and looks away. “Do you miss him?” he asks after another moment. It’s a second question Jim already knows the answer to.

The Ambassador inclines his head, the lines of age and knowledge creasing around his eyes. “More than I can say,” he replies, and Jim’s throat catches.

The Ambassador’s mouth is curved slightly upward, but it is sad, and suddenly Jim has to make it better, because this is Spock, and Spock shouldn’t be sad, ever. Especially not when he’s with Jim. He doesn’t realize he’s leaning forward in his seat, leaning closer to that neat line of glossy gray-streaked hair, closer to those heavy dark eyes (so full) until he feels a hand laid gently upon his.

“Jim,” says the Ambassador softly.

Jim stops--he sits back, the sting of embarrassment sharp and hot in his stomach. _Fuck,_ he thinks. _I think I just made a move on the fucking Ambassador._ The Ambassador’s hand rests lightly atop Jim’s--his fingers close around Jim’s fingers, then slide away.

Jim starts to reach forward, automatically (this is what you do when someone you want pulls away)--then stops himself. _Fuck._

The Ambassador folds his hands together and draws them out of sight. His dark eyes (Spock’s eyes) twinkle at Jim, with plain affection.

“I believe I have a theory as to why Spock is ‘mad’ at you.”

+++

“I am interested in your reasons for ordering full dress uniforms,” Spock says, his hands clasped too tightly behind him. “Protocol mandates dress uniforms for inspections by senior members of Starfleet Command and visits by certain dignitaries. As Ambassador Spock’s designation is merely honorary in this universe, I do not--”

“It’s in my discretion,” the captain interrupts. “Time for you to brush up on Reg 98.6--I want to send the Ambassador off in style.” Captain Kirk doesn’t break stride as he adds, “Plus I like the way you look in dress blues, Commander.”

Spock is too taken aback to even arch a brow. He looks over at the captain, and the sideways curve of his mouth, the expectant slant of his brow remind Spock of the unknown cadet, smugly eating an apple, standing triumphantly in the simulation room. Spock matches Captain Kirk’s swaggering step with each of his own, observing the captain from the corner of his eye. He is silent for the rest of their trip to the transporter room, reflecting on Captain Kirk’s remark, and on the general merits of dress uniform.

+++

“It was truly an honor to have you on board, Ambassador,” Jim says, meaning it--meaning more. “I enjoyed your visit, very much.” He doesn’t want the Ambassador to go. “As did the rest of the crew, of course.”

“The honor was mine, Captain,” Ambassador Spock replies, the almost-smile lifting his mouth. “You have a fine ship, and a remarkable crew.” He gives Spock a glance and adds, “And a particularly note-worthy first officer, if I say so myself.”

Jim laughs; the Ambassador’s eyes are warm with humor and Jim doesn’t want him to leave. Then Jim looks over at Spock, whose posture is unmistakeably rigid, and Jim decides it won’t be that bad. He reaches up and gives Spock’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I agree completely,” he says, looking straight at Spock. Spock’s brow hedges up a tiny fraction.

“Thank you for your generous hospitality,” the Ambassador says, and Jim and Spock both look at him. “I trust that we will meet again.”

“Oh, you bet!” Jim answers. “Anytime you feel like hitting the stars, just give us a holler and we’ll be there. Right, Spock?” He turns to his first officer and grins, waiting for Spock to cite the chain of command, mission duties, Starfleet rules and regulations.

“Affirmative,” Spock says, and Jim’s grin goes open-mouthed.

“A highly satisfactory state of affairs,” the Ambassador declares, and bends to pick up his personal effects. “Mr. Scott, it was a pleasure.”

“Aye, Ambassador. Don’t be a stranger.” Jim turns toward Scotty and catches him with a gleeful look on his face that makes him wonder what warp drive secret the Ambassador divulged this time. When he turns back around, the Ambassador is on the transporter pad with his belongings in hand.

“Live long, and prosper,” he says, raising the ta’al. Beside him, Jim sees Spock raising his hand in response.

“Good-bye, old friend,” Jim says quietly, knowing both Spocks hear him. He takes in a breath.

“Energize.”

Jim stands there, watching the Ambassador’s gentle eyes watching him, until the golden sparkles blind him and bear his friend away. At last he blinks and turns to go--and bumps into Spock, who is suddenly so close he is touching Jim’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he grins, putting an arm around his first officer. “Chess tonight?”

“That would be enjoyable.” If Spock’s surprised at the arm across his back or Jim’s face next to his, he doesn’t show it.

“Great!” Jim replies happily. “I gotta warn you though, I’m planning on busting out some hot new moves. Prepare to be shocked.”

Spock merely adjusts an eyebrow to convey his skepticism; Jim laughs and walks them out of the transporter bay. He pulls Spock close to him before letting him go, and thinks how awesome it’ll be to say _Told you so._


End file.
